Eternity Was in Our Eyes
by only here in your arms
Summary: The romance of Miss Clare Edwards and Elijah Goldsworthy could not have come at the worst time. As the Civil War threatens to begin, Clare realizes the true meaning of love when she falls for the lower class son of her family chef. Very AU.
1. October

**The title of this story comes from William Shakespeare's **_**Antony and Cleopatra**_**, the line is actually "Eternity was in our lips and eyes." Inspired by my love of Gone With The Wind and also Pride and Prejudice, though this is more like Gone With The Wind. This is a very AU story, just saying. And I will try my best to be honest to the history and vernacular of the time, don't kill me if something's not correct though!**

**This story is set to be around 20 chapters long and with every detail already set, I think I should be able to update this regularly. But if you've been a reader of my stories, you know that I tend to leave stories un-updated for long periods. But I will try to keep this going regularly!**

**Twitter: hereinyourarms_**

**Tumblr: returntomemysunandstars**

**And I'd appreciate it if you reviewed, please don't be silent. :) Thanks for reading!**

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The worst part of the day was the beginning, with how much she had to endure to be dressed for the day.

Miss Clare Edwards would always be woken by two maids, paid to get her out of bed by opening her curtains to let the bright glare of the sunlight in, paid to get Miss Clare Edwards dressed for the day, a feat more difficult everyday as she resisted the corset more and more, and paid to make sure she got to her teacher in time for her simple little class.

Miss Clare Edwards lived in a small town in Massachusetts, born to a man who built his fortune by practicing medicine, working as a surgeon in Philadelphia for Dr. George L. Shearer. Randall Edwards had been one of the first surgeons in the country and decided to work elsewhere, settling down in Boston with his wife Helen. After raising two girls to adolescence, Randall passed away to a sickness Clare wasn't familiar with from all of the books that her father had read to her.

But Randall had left his family secure, the Edwards property to their name despite not having a male heir, and they were living just fine. The family caused a scandal in their area though as widow Helen Edwards remarried. This time it was a widower named Glen Martin, whom Helen knew as a child. Glen had a child of his own named Jacob and they all became a larger family. Helen and Glen, the eldest Darcy, the middle and only boy Jacob (whom Clare calls Jake, despite it being "informal"), and Clare herself, trailing three years behind Darcy and one behind Jake.

Clare remained blissfully ignorant of what the townspeople said about her family. She'd hear snippets of what women said behind cupped hands pressed against another's ears, she'd see stares as she walked by, but she chooses to ignore it.

"Others have no other business to tend to so they choose to make some use of their lives by scrutinizing others," Helen told her once when she inquired about why girls her age stared. "All that is relevant to us is our happiness, our family's happiness, and nothing else. We have been blessed with a beautiful home and our health. That is all we need to know."

So Clare took her mother's words to heart. God blessed her family with money and a house and clothing and loved ones. No person in her town would ruin her happiness just from their petty gossip and wide-eyed stares.

Once Clare finished her reading class with her private teacher, she stopped by the market before heading home. Clare never carried any coins with her, therefore never buying any items at the market, but she enjoyed looking. She liked to see what fruits were available that day, what new inventions were being tried out, what little kids seemed to play while they waited for their parents' shops to close. Clare was observant, her eyes wandering almost always and analyzing.

Almost every trip she made to the market she'd emerge with a free fruit or a freshly picked flower from an admiring man or an innocent little boy. Before leaving the market she would give her free gift to another, passing on the happiness she gained from the kindness of another.

Clare's journey home was always full of stops. She would take the time to wave and greet the closest neighbors (whose houses were a quarter of a mile away from her own) and she would enjoy the weather on a bright, breezy day. The weather dictated her walk home but today, the weather was favorable, uncharacteristically warm for an October day, and Clare opted to stay out longer, knowing that when she got home, her mother would give her things to do.

When she arrived at the property, the front door was opened for her and she was bowed to by the servants and maids that worked for her family. She smiled at them all, saying their names in greeting, and walked to the kitchen where she found her favorite woman slaving away at the stove.

Her family's cook was named Cece Goldsworthy, the matriarch of her own family, and the best cook in town. Cece was also a second mother to Clare, nursing her from birth when Helen was ill after giving birth. Sometimes Clare found herself loving Cece more than her own mother, though she rid that thought from her mind instantly.

"How were your lessons this morning Miss Clare?" Cece asked her upon seeing her.

"The same," Clare answered honestly sighing against the wall. "Though I do enjoy the poems we read. They're quite beautiful."

"Ah my son is alike, he often times wishes to hear a poem or preferably, have me obtain a book of poems for him to read," Cece smiles, stirring away at a giant pot. "But I have yet to find such a book for a suitable price."

"Well I may lend him one of my own," Clare offered. "If it please you."

"Darling, it is not my place to ask this of—"

"I insist," Clare assured her. "I have not seen Elijah for a while now. Where has he been?"

"Finding work in various homes," Cece told her. "Fixing broken doors, patios, windows."

"Does he attend school?"

Cece shook her head. "Our family needs him to work, for my wage and my husband's is insufficient to provide for us. I wish he may since I have taught him all I have learned in school and he wishes to learn more. But at the moment, we cannot afford it."

"If he were to sit in during a session of mine, I'm sure that—"

"Clare Diana."

Clare flipped around, flattening her dress to prevent it from being caught. Her mother was standing at the kitchen doorway, the same look on her face as always. Stern and direct. Her face was pale from her use of expensive powder. Her cheeks were red and Clare was not sure if it was because of the weather or from excessive pinching.

"Come with me, I am sure that Cece here is busy tending to our food." Helen waved her hand to motion Clare over and Clare took her mother's hand. Before leaving the kitchen she turned her head to smile and wave to their cook.

Once out of sight, Helen pinched Clare's hand. She turned to her daughter and said, "You will not offer your private school lessons to another, understood? We pay for you to receive your education so we can be sure that you are receiving a good education rather than a subpar one offered in public schooling. We are paying for yours, Jacob's, and Darcy's education, not for a child out of this family. Understood?"

Clare nodded vigorously, smoothing her hand to rid of the pain inflicted by her mother's sharp nails. She watched as her mother left the sitting room, probably off to powder her face some more. Once her mother was gone, Clare looked around among her step-father's collection of books. He had a collection fit for a library and Clare was happy she had her choice of any.

She decided on her favorite _Pride and Prejudice_, the first novel Clare read that affected her so. The book turned her into a romantic, picturing herself part of a beautiful romance that endures obstacles, internal and external, a romance to be remembered. Clare pined for it every time she read the novel, every time she heard that members of her social circle were getting married. She wished for the love Fitzwilliam Darcy had for Elizabeth Bennet, unconditional and unprejudiced.

Walking over to sit on what she believed to be the most comfortable couch in the room, she saw a newspaper sitting beside her step-father's chair. Because Clare always desired to be up-to-date with the news of the country, although her mother looks down upon it, she grabbed it. Realizing it was an old edition of _The Liberator_, Clare chose to read Jane Austen's novel instead. She had read almost every edition of _The Liberator_ that her step-father had in his possession multiple times.

Clare managed to spend most of her day reading instead of the sewing her mother often persuaded her to do. Instead of sewing letters and words using needle and thread, Clare read them, immersed in the beautiful text. She sat in her room, sitting close to the window for the best reading light, with her focus solely on the words in front of her.

_"In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."_

As Clare read on of Darcy's proposal and Elizabeth's refusal, she heard a sound outside of her window. Out of her second story bedroom, she had a view of the first floor patio roof and the person who made their way onto it. Squinting a bit, Clare tried to focus on the person's face to figure out who it was but the figure wasn't turning her direction. Finally the figure turned and at first, Clare was unsure of who it was. But after minutes of shameless staring Clare did put a name to the face.

It was Cece's son Elijah, who seemed to look older after not having seen him for months.

After staring for many minutes, Clare realized that Elijah was fixing a part of the patio roof. He was dressed in tattered and dirty clothing, most likely from his trade. He was taking broken pieces of wood from the roof and went down the ladder with them, taking him from Clare's sight. After Elijah hadn't returned for a while, Clare went back to her book only to realize that she wasn't reading the words anymore. Her mind was plagued with the visual of the boy, probably closer to Jake's age than hers. She hadn't seen a close look at him but still, she was enticed enough to be distracted from her favorite hobby.

Clare tried going back to her reading but it was no use. She would read an entire page before realizing that she hasn't _read_ it at all. Her eyes glazed over the words, not registering any of it. Instead she could only see Elijah working on the patio roof.

Wishing to distract herself, Clare grabbed her sewing and went to meticulously embroider a delicate flower on the white fabric. When she found herself thinking of Elijah, she would accidentally poke herself with the sharp needle. This became the perfect distraction then, as she wished not to think of Elijah nor pierce her fingers even more.

One of the maids knocked on her door to signal that it was time for dinner. Clare turned to the window and realized how much time had actually passed. She looked down to her stitching and saw that she had actually made progress with it. Setting her sewing ring down, she walked downstairs to the dining room where her family was already waiting. Her mother stood at one end of the table, her step-father at another, and Jake at the seat opposite her own. The only vacant seat was of Darcy's, who had left Boston to study elsewhere.

Their chairs were pulled out for them and Clare gratefully smiled at the older man named Marco. He was always the one to pull out her chair, set her courses in front of her, and refill her water glass. Though the servants made themselves invisibles during non-meal hours, Clare still managed to create a bond with Marco.

Her family ate mostly in silence. Clare would simply finish her food without a word, unless she was spoken to. But occasionally she would see Jake making faces at her across the table to make her laugh.

They were made family when Clare was ten, a month away from her eleventh birthday, and Jake was twelve. And to say that they were at odds with each other was putting it lightly. They fought constantly, causing distress to their parents and all of those who worked in the house. Because none of the servants, housekeepers, maids, and cooks wanted to make it look as if they favored the Edwards over the Martin, or vice versa, they ignored the bickering. And neither Helen nor Glen could keep the two from arguing for more than a day.

But with age and maturity, the two managed to get along. Clare realized that once she and her brother were at peace, the house seemed to relax as well.

Now they were back to their silly ways, filling the silence in the dining room with contorted faces and stuck out tongues. Their parents seemed to be oblivious and hopefully so, since they would be lectured on table manners until the sun came up the following morning.

"The weather was unseasonably warm today," Helen noted, the first of the family to speak during dinner.

"I enjoyed it," Clare replied to her mother. "My walk home was particularly—"

"Clare, I thought I told you to take the carriage," her mother cut in harshly. "A young girl like you should not be walking unattended through the town all the way home."

"I did manage to get home safely," Clare muttered over her glass of water. But her mother, with her strangely advanced and almost scary hearing heard her words, evident from the sharp look on her face.

"You will take the carriage in the morning," Helen said sternly. "You will thank me. Once the weather becomes too cold and a strange, poor man asks you to marry him and follows you home, then you'd wish you had listened."

"Mother, I believe that you are being dramatic," Clare retorted. "But I will take the carriage."

Helen smiled in victory and went back to her plate of food. Clare glanced over the Jake again and pointed to his father with a movement of her head, urging him to bring up a new subject.

"Father," Jake piped up, turning his head. "When is the election this year?"

"Soon, son," Glen told him. "In early November."

"Do you know who you will vote for?"

Glen nodded. "Of course son. I have been following all of the news of the two candidates and based on what they want to see for this country, I have decided to cast my vote for Lincoln."

"Why is that?" Clare questioned inquisitively. One thing she and her step-father had in common, beside their love of books, was their interest in politics. Neither Jake nor her mother had much interest in the matter, since the only person in their family who could vote was Glen. But Clare liked knowing what was going on in their country. She desired to see more of the country than her small Massachusetts town.

"The North has been almost exclusively slavery-free," Glen began, directing his attention to his step-daughter. "And the South has been adamant on keeping their slaves. Lincoln believes in abolishing slavery and I firmly agree with him. I also managed to procure a campaign button of Lincoln and his vice president Hamlin."

Glen fished it out of his pocket and directed one of the servers to hand it over to Clare. She admired its delicacy and formality. She had never heard of a campaign button before, though by its name it was safe to decipher what it was.

"Can I keep it?" she asked excitedly. Glen nodded in confirmation and she couldn't help but squeal in excitement.

"For goodness sake, Clare. A woman should not be as interested as you are in politics," Helen hissed harshly. "And you should not be treasuring such petty items."

"Helen, it's a gift from me, of course she should treasure it," Glen protested his wife. With a smile, he turned back to Clare. "I would be insulted if you let it out of your sight!"

Clare couldn't help but smile brightly as her step father. He loved to spoil her with little things he would get on the way home from work. A little trinket, new earrings. But this was the most special because it meant more than just a little thing to add to her jewelry box.

"My love," Helen said in fake sweetness. "I do not think that—"

"My wife," Glen interrupted. "Clare is sixteen years old and perfectly capable of shaping her mind with the subjects she chooses. If politics is her interest, let it be. If not, that is fine as well."

Helen clamped her mouth shut and said no more for the rest of dinner. Clare and Jake listened as their father continued talking about the impending election and the clear division between the North and South over the largest issue of the country. One of his co-workers had alluded to a possible war, causing Clare to gasp and Jake to be more alert.

"A war would mean a draft," Jake concluded, tearing his gaze away from his father and stared at the table.

"Jacob, there is no need to worry," Glen assured him. Clare was able to see that Glen himself was trying to keep a strong face. Switching back at forth from looking at the Martin men, she realized that if Glen's co-worker was right, there was a big chance that one of them would leave for the war. Clare didn't wish to worry herself or her family more so she chose to change the subject.

"Jake," she interjected with a plastered smile. "My good friend Katie has expressed interest in you. Do you remember her?"

Jake's face lit up but upon realizing how big his smile became, he coughed into his hand. "Yes, I do remember," he nodded, reaching for his glass.

"Are you referring to Katherine Matlin? Daughter of Margaret Matlin?" Helen marveled happily. "Now Jacob, _that _would be a fine match! The Matlins are a wonderful family."

Jake agreed sheepishly with his lips pressed against his glass. Clare was amused seeing Jake as flustered as he was. It was clear to Clare a while ago that her good friend Katie had a crush on her brother and while observing the two in secret, Katie's feelings were reciprocated. But Katie was shy and Jake wouldn't act unless he was entirely sure.

"I like Katie as well," Glen told his son. "If you wish to court her, Jacob, then it is clear that you have our permission. You must ask her parents if you may court her but—"

"They will surely agree," Helen finished for her husband. She could not hide the happiness building up in her. "Oh, this is wonderful. The first courtship of the family."

"Well mother, do you remember the first boy who wanted to court Darcy?" Clare brought up in a joking manner.

Surprisingly though, Helen's rolling eyes was followed by a smile. "That poor boy. He was a perfectly fine boy."

"But Darcy did not agree," Clare added. "With her pushing him down into mud and all."

The Edwards-Martin family shared a rare, genuine laugh among them. Jokes often died out in conversation that involved Helen Edwards but this time she was able to join in with the laughter. Clare and Helen explained the entire story to the two men, that Darcy's first suitor was named William and was from a lesser wealthy family but a gentleman, nonetheless. Helen had approved of William but Darcy had been in love with some boy named Gavin, a boy who lived in town and worked at his father's produce stand. Darcy had denied William's court proposal and William did not take no for an answer until Darcy shoved him to the ground, into a pile of mud beside the street.

Once dinner was over and the servers had taken their plates, the family separated into their usual after dinner tasks. Helen and Glen went into the library, Jake went to his shed to continue with one of his projects, and Clare was going to retreat back to her room to do more embroidering but decided to join Jake instead.

Picking up her dress, much against Helen's former pleas to not show her ankles, Clare walked the small distance between the house and the back shed. Once there she thought she would find Jake slaving away at some piece of finely shaped wood when she was met with the sight of her brother and the boy she'd been staring at earlier.

"Clare," Jake smiled upon seeing her.

"Miss Clare," Elijah said in greeting, politely shoving his hair out of his face to attempt to look cleaner than he really was.

"Hello," Clare replied shyly. She sat down in her usual seat that Jake had left for her against one of the walls of the shed and watched the two boys converse. Jake was handing Elijah a few tools and Elijah gave him long sheets of wood.

Once the discussion was over, Elijah started making his way out. "Goodnight," he said politely to Jake. Passing by, Elijah gave a cordial smile to Clare. "Goodnight Miss Clare."

"Goodnight Elijah," she replied with the same cordial smile.

"If you wish, you may call me Eli," he offered. "If that is easier for you. It is for my parents."

This was the first time in months that Clare had seen Eli but the first time ever seeing him up close, even when they were children. At this distance, Clare saw the freckles over his nose, the layer of dirt that grazed his neck, and his shockingly green eyes. Clare believed them to be brown but she was proven wrong.

Her favorite color was previously yellow. Now it was green.

"Then if you wish, you may call me Clare," she replied with blushing cheeks. "_Miss_ Clare makes me cringe."

"Are you sure, Miss Clare?"

Hearing Eli address her as Miss Clare when he was so close to her made her scrunch up her nose. The formality of it always made her want to demand that she only be called Clare but her mother would have something to say about that.

"I will miss that expression," Eli said, pointing at her. "But I will oblige. Goodnight Clare."

Clare watched Eli walk out of the shed, towards the house, and realized that her heart had been racing the entire time. Putting a hand over her clothed chest, she willed for her heart to slow down.

"Well then."

Clare jumped in surprise at the voice, realizing Jake had witnessed the entire exchange across the room. Jake simply laughed and continued his work and Clare was grateful that he was not going to joke at her expense. She spent the rest of the hour thinking of Eli, his handsome face and beautiful eyes, until Jake told her that it was time to go back into the house.


	2. Mid October

**Thank you for the great response to the first chapter of this story! I ask for one thing: Please do not disappear on me! Please continue to tell me if you like the story or not!**

**Something funny about this chapter: I actually wrote the chapter with Jenna rather than Becky but a specific part of this chapter made more sense to have Becky rather than Jenna. You will see. There's also progression of Eclare in this chapter so yay!**

**And you'll meet Gracie. Forgive me, it's not Adam, but it's necessary. I'm trying to tell a historical romance, emphasis on historical (and also romance, obviously) but it's also history so…yeah.**

**Important! I am remaining spoiler free for Degrassi Season 12B so please refrain from mentioning any spoilers (meaning do not tell me anything from promos or episode descriptions or pictures, etc.) I am conducting a personal experiment (in reality I'm just seeing if my enjoyment of the second part of the season will be more than before) so please help me and do not tell me new information!**

**Also: Barouche = really fancy carriage**

**Thank you for reading and please review!**

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Clare's two best friends, Katie Matlin and Rebecca Baker, were going to visit her today. Because the two lived several miles away, the friends saw each other once or twice a month. It had taken them a month to coordinate Katie's and Becky's arrival to Clare's at the same time but it was worth it.

As Clare held her breath to put on her corset for the day, she pictured what they would do. A trip around town was planned. And surely, Becky would keep them occupied with the latest gossip of now only their town but of the country. Clare had no idea how Becky was able to hear the gossip all over the country, perhaps she makes them up – it would not be the first time – but Becky must have a creative mind.

Katie and Becky arrived within minutes of each other, just before breakfast at the Edwards-Martin house was to be served. After a very long, excited greeting between all three girls, they were directed into the dining room where only three places were set up. Once they were all seated and food placed in front of them, Becky was already tuning them in.

"Did ya'll hear that Anastasia Valieri and Declan Coyne were caught together?" Becky brought up quickly in her Southern accent. Her family originated from Tennessee but Rebecca Baker was born in Pennsylvania. Her accent is an imitation (a poor one) of her mother's accent, whose own accent is now prominently Northern. But her Southern accent made her very known among the young men of their Boston town because no boys seemed to notice or care about the fakeness of her accent.

"Declan Coyne of the Coyne Banking Company?" Katie asked.

"Of course," Becky scoffed. "Who else would I be talkin' about? There are no other Declan Coynes in this country. Anastasia prefers to be called Jane but anyways, that isn't the big scandal. Ya'll know the Sinclairs, right? They have a small factory company, so they are pretty rich but not as rich as the Coynes. Well, Declan was engaged to Holly Jeanette, the younger of the Sinclair sisters and the prettier, boys say. And of course since their both wealthy families, combining them is a smart move, right? Well, Declan was found with Jane. They were doin' more than kissin' if you know what I mean."

"I hope Holly Jeanette broke their engagement," Clare admits strongly. She nibbled on a piece of corn bread to avoid Becky's opinion of her eating her food too quickly.

"Of course she didn't!" Becky exclaimed. "Did you not hear what I said earlier? Combing their families is the smart move! Besides, it will not be the first time Declan will do this so at least Holly Jeanette will have experienced it already."

Clare forces herself to bite her tongue and reply in a calm manner. Often times, Becky had opinions that Clare could not agree with. There was rarely a day when the two of them did not get into a heated argument about Becky's moral ethics. Clare always seemed to give up, not because she suddenly changed her beliefs to agree with Becky's but because she felt bad for Katie Matlin having to witness their arguments for hours on end.

"I do not agree with you Becky," Clare says simply. "Holly Jeanette's happiness matters too."

"She will be financially secure for the rest of her life, she will be happy," Becky does a little condescending wave and continues to eat her stew. Clare glances over to Katie, who politely remains silent and eating her food. But her eyes caught Clare's across the table and the look between them said it all – Katie agreed with her, not Becky, as usual.

The three girls remained silent for the rest of breakfast and was preparing for their trip to town. Clare allowed her friends to borrow a coat and picked a shawl for herself. Her maid put a hat on her head and fixed her curly hair.

Finally, once the girls were all prepared to leave, Becky abruptly stopped them before they were able to exit the grand front doors.

"Is there a problem Miss Baker?" Clare's maid Beth asked the young woman.

Becky grabbed Clare's clothed arm and pulls her to the window beside the door. Clare saw what had distracted her friend, which made her stomach tighten uncomfortably. Right on the patio was Elijah, _Eli_ setting up his tools, presumably to continue his repair of the patio. He was oblivious to the three girls looking at him through the window. Clare cleared her throat and tried to pull Becky back but the blonde stood her ground.

"Clare, you didn't tell me that a good looking gentleman was hired as handyman," Becky had a lip between her teeth as she gazed over at the still dirty looking Eli. Clare felt a fire burning in her stomach, something she's never experienced before. The word "jealousy" popped up in her brain but she shook it out.

"He is fixing the patio," Clare explained. "He's our cook's son."

"Don't you just spend your day staring at him?" Becky asked Clare without turning her head. "I sure would if a boy who looked like him were walking around my house. Course I wouldn't actually do anythin', my daddy would disown me if I ever touched someone poor, but I sure can look."

Clare's patience was getting pushed to its limits with Becky today and they hadn't even been together for more than a couple of hours yet. But Clare couldn't help but think of a word to describe Becky at the moment: _floozy._

"I think it's time to go to town," Katie, always the mediator, piped up. "Clare, shall we go?"

"Yes," Clare said through gritted teeth. "Becky, would you like to join us or will you remain here and stare out the window?"

"Have you given me the option or are you chastising me?" Becky retorted, her gaze outside finally breaking.

"Take it as you will," Clare replied spitefully. Beth opened the door finally and with laced arms, Clare and Katie stepped onto the patio. The temperature seemed to drop since Katie and Becky's arrival, making Clare's thin shawl insufficient for blocking the cold wind. But Clare's body was still hot from the argument with Becky.

Clare wished to make a silent departure to the carriage waiting, wanting to avoid a conversation with Eli, not because she didn't want to talk to him but she wanted their next conversation to be while she wasn't fuming from confusing feelings from Becky staring at him.

But it seemed that Eli hadn't sensed her desire for a quick exit. "Miss Clare, I mean…Clare."

Clare slowly turned to Eli, making Katie turn with her as well. They watched as Eli bowed to them, a decent bow for a boy who never properly learned how to bow. Clare was surprised to find that she didn't have to fake her smile to him. Once he spoke to her, she forgot about Becky and was happy to hear Eli addressing her.

"Eli," she said in greeting.

She was at a loss for words. Her mouth remained open, trying to think of words to say to the beautiful man standing in front of her, now walking closer to her. But any polite conversation topics she learned from etiquette class disappeared from her mind. Eli was simply staring at her with gentle eyes and a small smile, causing Clare to become speechless.

"Hello," Katie said in the midst of the silence. "I'm Katie Matlin."

"Nice to meet you," Eli bowed again and Katie replied with a half-curtsy. "Are you going into town?"

Katie nudged Clare with her elbow to reply but Clare remained silent. "Yes," Katie answered for her. "Clare was nice enough to plan this entire day for us."

"Us?" Eli questioned.

Before Clare or Katie could reply, Becky waltzed out of the house, her blonde hair thrown over one shoulder, and a familiar expression on her face. Clare had seen this look many of times before. It was one she had when she wanted to charm a boy.

"Yes they do," Becky said in an even thicker, fake Southern accent. "Hi, my name is Becky Baker."

Becky held out her hand to him. Eli looked over to Clare before taking Becky's hand and barely kissing the back of it. "Elijah," he said once he let her hand go. "It is a pleasure to meet you Ms. Becky."

"Will you accompany us to town?" Becky requested with a hand thrown onto her hip. "I imagine I will make a few purchases and might require extra sets of hands to hold them."

Clare wanted to cut in and tell Eli that he did not have to go but Eli agreed to go with them. Eli went to wipe his dirty hands on a work cloth while the three ladies walked to the Barouche carriage. The driver helped Clare and Katie into the carriage first, the two of them sitting on one side together. Becky waved the carriage driver away and waited beside the carriage for Eli.

Eli helped Becky into the carriage and although the carriage was very roomy, enough for four women and their large dresses, Becky acted as if her side of the carriage did not have enough room and pressed herself up against Eli's side.

Thankfully the ride didn't take more than ten minutes. Clare managed to keep her gaze to the scenery around her, her arm still around Katie's, and she listened to Becky telling Eli all about herself.

"My family's from Tennessee," Becky was telling Eli. Clare didn't know if Eli was interested or not. He hadn't said a word and she didn't want to look over to see Eli looking immersed in the conversation. "My daddy and I go visit my grandparents there _all_ the time. My family runs the _famous _Baker Dry Goods and Grocer in Tennessee, which is where all the money comes from. My daddy's the minister of the Baptist church in the next town over."

"That's very interesting Ms. Becky," Eli said. "Were you born in Tennessee?"

"I—I," Becky hesitated for a second, amusing Clare and finally causing her to look over to her friend. "No I was not born in Tennessee. Boys like you should not be asking such personal questions of a lady."

"My sincerest apologies Ms. Becky," Eli replied, his tone sincere but the half-smile on his lips not. Clare hid her own smile behind a hand, pretending to push away a stray curl from her face.

Once the carriage arrived at the busy part of town, Eli helped all three ladies out of the carriage. When it was Clare's turn, Eli kept his eyes straight at hers while their hands touched each others. Clare had never felt her cheeks burn more than this moment. She'd greeted many people, had hand contact with them, but never had she felt as flustered. Clare stepped down from the carriage, her hand gently between Eli's palm and his thumb. His rough skin was different. And she knew she could spend all day feeling his hand in hers.

But the moment stopped as Eli let go when Clare was safely on the ground. "Thank you," she said softly, sad that their connection was broken.

Becky whisked Eli away before he could reply, bringing him over to a produce stand. Katie walked beside Clare, going a different direction. Once they were out of ear-shot from Becky and Eli, Katie turned to Clare.

"You seem to know Elijah very well," Katie grinned teasingly.

"No," Clare shook her head. "I have known him all my life but we do not talk often."

"He seems to like you," Katie noted, looking over her shoulder.

"He does not," Clare insisted, her cheeks reddening once again. "He is simply a gentleman and brought up well."

Katie put her arm through Clare's and continued to walk. "Do you think that Elijah believes Becky's accent?"

Clare couldn't suppress her giggle. "I don't know if Eli has ever met a Southerner but I do think Eli could tell how Becky's accent would disappear and then return in the middle of a sentence."

The two ladies shared a gentle laugh together as they approached Eli and Becky, still at the produce stand. Becky was smelling and depositing kinds of fruit into a wooden box Eli was holding for her.

"My daddy asked me to bring him some of his favorite fruits," Becky said to the girls. "Isn't Elijah so nice to help me?"

Becky was directing this cheeky comment to Clare. The smirk on Becky's face as she placed another fruit into the small basket made Clare's bad mood return. "That is very sweet of you Eli," Clare agreed, forcing her tone to be sweet.

"Thank you," Eli replied. Clare noticed how it seemed that Eli had a smile reserved for her. The full smile showing his teeth wasn't the one he gave to Becky or Katie. But when he spoke to her, it was a full, genuine smile. But Clare couldn't allow herself to focus on that. She hadn't seen him smile at anyone else other than her and her friends. But Clare wanted to think she had a smile reserved for her.

Clare and Katie waited for Becky to finish her fruit picking, a very long process it seemed. But while they waited, a peculiar looking female approached Eli, surprising him.

"Hi Gracie" he said enthusiastically. When he turned away, Becky was just about to put something into the box. Becky huffed angrily.

"Hello Eli," Gracie replied. Clare noticed that Gracie's hair was cut very short and even stranger, she was wearing long pants, a man's dress shirt, and holding tools like the one Eli always had. But the feminine features of her face were prominent, so she was definitely a girl, but this was the first time Clare had ever seen a female dressed like a man.

"I rarely see you in town," Gracie noted, looking around. "What brings you here?"

"I've come to help carry these ladies' purchases," Eli turned his head to them. "It was lovely of them to allow me to come."

"Indeed," Gracie agreed.

"Excuse me," Becky's voice interrupted the friend's conversation. "I'm sorry to interrupt," Becky continued though Clare knew Becky was _not_ sorry to interrupt. "But did Elijah say your name was _Gracie?_"

"Yes," Gracie nodded slowly.

"Then why on Earth are you dressed like _that_?" Becky judgmentally asked.

"Like what?"

"Like a man!" Becky shrieked, her accent masked by the anger. "Women are _not_ supposed to wear a man's clothing! Or have their hair like a man! Are you trying to defy how God made you?"

Clare was seconds away from excusing Becky away from Eli and Gracie to avoid a scene in the middle of town. But Gracie's retort stopped her for the simple reason of wanting to see Becky get what she deserved. "You weren't born in the South, Miss, but your poor accent attempts to lie for you. Are you trying to defy how God made _you_?"

Becky was fuming now, obvious by her hand crushing a plum into pulp, staining her dress. "My accent is not the same as your choices in dress," she stepped closer to Gracie. "A woman should not be wearing trousers. Even a _poor_ woman should not wear trousers."

"I guess I ain't a woman," Gracie said while mocking Becky's accent.

Clare put a hand to her mouth to cover a laugh but Becky seemed to catch it. She turned to Clare, her eyes narrowing in. "Do you find this amusing?"

"Yes I do," she said nodding.

"This woman, if you can even call her that, is a disgrace," Becky pointed back at Gracie. "Acting and dressing like a man, I—"

"It worries me, Becky, that you find women not as people that can make choices but as a doll, required to dress a certain way and only act the way another, mostly a man, orders them to." Clare stepped towards Becky, her hands clasped in front of her waist, and the calmest expression on her face. She had been aching to say these words to Becky Baker for a long time now and she had more to say. "I understand that society has its view on men and women and how we are deemed to act. But women can be more than the woman of the house, forced to run the house, and take care of children. Women are capable of doing a man's work. A woman should wear what she chooses. And a woman should not judge another and talk to them like you have talked to Gracie."

Becky's hand raised quickly, headed towards Clare's cheek, but it was caught in the air by a firm grip. Eli had stopped Becky's possible slap and he gently pushed Clare back, putting himself between Becky and Clare.

"A woman should not hit another woman," Eli said in the darkest voice Clare's ever heard. It made her eyes enlarge in shock, hearing Eli sound so threatening. Not only had it scared Becky, it scared her.

"This isn't right," Becky was standing her ground, though her voice made it seem like she was on the verge of tears. "Trousers on women, women believing their roles in society aren't the ones that have been in place for hundreds of years, and a poor, handyman disobeying a richer woman."

"I believe a man's job is to protect," Eli declared. "My mother taught me to protect any person in danger."

"Your mother should have taught you to respect the higher class," Becky seethed.

"How you act does not depict a high class woman nor does it deserve respect," Eli retorted. Becky suddenly pushed Eli back, causing him to collide against Clare. Luckily the two of them stayed on their feet, despite the heavy collision. Clare, out of instinct, put her hands on Eli's back to keep him steady. Her heart started to race at the contact and although Eli was steady again, her hands remained on his back.

"Is there a place here where I can acquire a carriage back home? I would rather not return to the Edwards-Martin house or stay here where the minds of women and men have been compromised. I would suggest visiting my father so you may return to the correct mindset of life but I wish to protect my father from having to meet people like you." Becky trudged off without another word, confusing Clare because Becky seemed to be heading opposite of the correct direction.

But Clare decided to simply forget Becky for now and turn her attention to Eli. He was still fuming because the tension of his back hadn't lessened yet. Cautiously, Clare gently ran her hand back and forth on his back.

"Thank you Eli," she said softly.

The tightness of his back lessened and he turned around, making Clare retract her hand regrettably. But Eli took her hand with no warning and raised it to his lips. Unlike how Eli kissed Becky's hand earlier, Eli made eye contact with Clare as he placed his lips on her skin and then pulling back with a charming smile.

"My pleasure," was his response and Clare knew at that moment that she had feelings for this man and she could not deny them anymore.

Eli turned to Gracie, forgetting to let go of Clare's hand but she did not complain, and said, "I apologize for Becky's actions."

"Apologies are not to be made on someone else's behalf but thank you," Gracie said. "I'm sorry that she transferred her anger for my actions onto you both, I did not intend for that to happen."

"Gracie, Becky has always acted that way so please do not worry," Clare assured her with a comforting smile. "I've always meant to speak my mind to her but I've never had the courage. You gave me the courage so I should be thanking you."

"Miss…um…" Gracie looked to Eli.

"Clare," Eli clarified for her, smiling over to Clare.

"Miss Clare," Gracie started again. "I have always encountered others like Becky. People of her status have never seen me as anything other than an insult to women. It surprised me that you defended me and I am indebted to you."

Clare shook her head. "I was speaking my mind which hardly constitutes any favors. But I would like to ask something of you."

"Anything."

"My family has just begun planning a grand party for my sixteenth birthday in a few months," Clare said informatively. "And I would like to give you a verbal invitation."

"I will happily attend your birthday," Gracie confirmed with a smile. "But your invitation is vague. Neither the place nor the time were said."

Clare's eyes glanced over to Eli for a second. "I will pass the information to Eli who will surely pass it over to you?"

"I will," Eli agreed.

"Well, how can I refuse? Thank you for the invitation," Gracie grinned then suddenly looking behind her shoulder. "I am so sorry, we have ignored you the past ten minutes."

Katie graciously denied their ignorance of her but still stepped forward. "I'm Katie Matlin," she introduced herself to Gracie. "Clare's very good friend."

"Nice to meet you," Gracie notably bowed instead of curtsied. "I must meet up with my brother now. I had only planned to briefly greet Eli here but we had the unfortunate distraction. But I will see you ladies soon hopefully and Eli, I hope to visit your parents soon. Have a good day."

Gracie walked up to a waiting boy and Eli, Katie, and Clare all decided to go back to the carriage and head back to Clare's home. But this time, Eli took the place beside Clare on the carriage bench. Clare's right hand and Eli's left were placed in the empty space between them, their pinky fingers slightly touching.

Once back at the Edwards-Martin property, Katie and Clare went up to Clare's bedroom to return Clare's coat and shawl to her closet. Clare also went to return her necklace back to her jewelry box when Katie stood behind her chair and started at her best friends through the mirror.

"He seems to like you," Katie mused, a sly smile on her face as she repeated her words from earlier.

Clare blushed for the millionth time today. "I seem to like him as well," she replied, her eyes avoiding Katie's in the mirror. As Clare thought of Eli, she remembered what the likely result would be if she ever declared her feelings for him. Her mother would send her away like her older sister Darcy and would possibly fire Eli's mother as their family cook, leaving the Goldsworthy family with less income than they already had.

"They would never allow us to be happy together," Clare murmured as she passed a hairbrush through her curls.

Katie seemed to attempt to find a positive reply but the way her shoulders fell. Clare placed her hairbrush back on her vanity and turned in her seat. Before she could say a word, she heard pounding outside of her window, the familiar sound of Eli still working on the patio. Instead of speaking, the two remained silent and listened to the patterned sounds of Eli working.


	3. November

**Thanks for the support and for reading this story. It'd be nice if you reviewed. Please.**

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The election came and went. On that day, Clare convinced her mother to allow her to accompany her step father to the town's ballot center. She was only allowed to ride to town with her step father, not actually step down from the carriage and follow him into the building, but she was excited to be surrounded by the voting men of her Boston town, voting for undoubtedly, Abraham Lincoln. Hidden in her family's Barouche, Clare listened as the men chattered about. How Lincoln's presidency will change the country for the better, how it was about time the country would all be the same – meaning that slavery would cease to exist.

Once Glen Martin returned to the carriage, Clare immediately bombarded him with questions. How did you vote? (_By writing on a ballot_.) Were there many people there? (_Yes, all talking about Lincoln._) How did you feel? (_Like it was the start of a new era for the country._)

Clare was content for the rest of the day, experiencing her first election that she was passionate about. The last election she was a measly 11 years old, caring only about taking the attention away from her step brother and competing in their sibling rivalry. But this year, it was entirely possible that she knew more about the candidates than some of the men who were allowed to vote. Though she would've loved to cast her ballot for the man who would make all equal, Clare was still content with this experience.

The Edwards-Martin house was not all a buzz for the election though. The event that made the house stir was of Jacob Martin's first outing with Katherine Matlin. Helen Edwards was filled with joy about this event, more so than Clare thought would be. Clare had a feeling that her mother was indeed happy for something more than Jake's first date with Katie but her mother was a secretive person, she would not be able to find out until her mother told her.

Once Clare and Glen arrived home, they both found the matriarch of their family running around the house in the best mood. Helen was floating on a cloud down the stairs. When she saw her daughter and husband at the door, she squealed in excitement.

"I'm so happy that you're finally home!" Helen exclaimed, running over to Clare. "I have a surprise for my beautiful daughter!"

"A surprise?" Clare questioned, glancing over at her step father. When Glen reciprocated the same confusion, she turned back to her mother. "It's not my birthday yet."

"This surprise is better than your birthday!" her mother said, still excited. "Jacob will be accompanying Katherine to town today."

Clare nodded slowly. "Yes mother, that has been the topic of conversation for a few weeks."

"Well, as you know, we cannot allow two young people to court alone," her mother continued, ignoring Clare's sarcastic tone. "So you will be accompanying them."

"I will?" Clare whined. "Mother must I?"

"Clare, you will not be alone! Do you remember the Fitzgerald family? They were guests at our Christmas party a few years back."

"Do you mean the family with the horrid son?" Clare replied in disgust. "That boy continuously and purposely spilled juice on my dress."

"Oh," Helen's face dropped, her mood ruined. "I hadn't remembered that it was the Fitzgerald boy who had done that, I always remembered Mark to be a wonderful boy."

Clare put the pieces together while Helen pondered to herself. Her mother had planned a double courtship to occur, each of them playing the chaperone for the other. While Clare kept her eye on her brother and best friend, they would be watching her and Mark Fitzgerald.

"Oh mother!" Clare picked up her dress and stomped her way to the dining room. "You have been planning to allow Mark Fitzgerald to court me? Why on earth would you keep this from me? I do _not_ like him nor will I change my predisposed opinion of him."

"Now you will listen to me Clare Diana," Helen said with a pointed finger. "The Fitzgeralds are a wonderful family and it would be an honor for you to become the lady of the Fitzgerald property. They have a beautiful home in a wonderful area, you will be close to here, you will be secure!"

Clare allowed her eyes to roll in annoyance. "Mother, Father has left me a sizable inheritance which will put whatever Mark Fitzgerald's family money to shame. If I wished, I can live my life with no husband and be secure."

"You will do no such thing!" Helen gasped. "It is possible that you may not marry Mark Fitzgerald—"

"No, it is guaranteed that I will not marry Mark Fitzgerald," Clare interrupted impolitely.

"—But you will certainly marry a man!" Helen finished angrily. "My daughter will not be some spinster!"

The two Edwards ladies stopped their arguing when a soft knock came from the dining room entrance. Clare's maid Beth was standing there, head tilted to the ground, and hands clasped near her stomach. "Yes Beth?" Clare said with a relieved sigh, happy to have a distraction.

"There is a guest at the front door madams," Beth told them, avoiding eye contact. "A Mr. Fitzgerald."

"Lovely," Clare muttered under her breath.

"Please allow him inside Beth and offer him a beverage," Helen ordered nicely. Once Beth nodded and walked out, Clare found herself being forced into the kitchen, her back used as the tool to open the swinging door. She stumbled into the kitchen loudly, causing all of the cooks to stop in their tracks.

"You will go out with that man," her mother ordered her as she backed her daughter up against a wall. "You will go out and be nice to him and I will not hear any distasteful stories of you being rude to him. I will remind you that your brother will also be accompanying you so he will report back to me. This is your one chance for a husband because you have no suitors lined up. All of the young men in our area know of your reputation, Clare Diana. Your aptitude for politics and work, men feel threatened and will not marry a woman they are threatened by. So this may be your one and only chance."

Clare felt tears brimming in her eyes, having never been treated so poorly and told such harsh words by her mother before. Helen Edwards had a knack for bruising one's self esteem but with her passionate words, she was close to shattering Clare's.

"You will go upstairs and put on a nicer dress and have a maid fix your hair," Helen demanded before leaving the kitchen, prompting the cooks to continue their work as if they hadn't just witnessed what they did.

Clare though, remained frozen against the wall, fighting her tears. She tried loosening her hard grip on the fabric of her dress but she found that it was impossible. The tension in her body did not want to relax. She must've been frozen in her place for at least five minutes until the back door of the kitchen opened and in walked Eli Goldsworthy.

Eli walked quickly to his mother, giving her a kiss on the cheek. But Cece wasn't as happy to see him as she usually was, worrying Eli quickly. A slight turn of the head made Eli follow his mother's gaze and saw Clare Edwards pressed up against the kitchen wall with the most distant look on her face.

"Clare," he said softly, reaching her in a few strides. Eli went to put his hands on her shoulders but he retracted his arms quickly, reaching to push his hair away from his forehead instead. He bent his knees and leaned his head a bit closer, trying to get her to respond to him. Trying to search her eyes, he found them to be as distant as her gaze. Worried about her, Eli hesitantly touched Clare's chin with his finger, shaking her head in the slightest way.

"Clare," he repeated sternly this time. He took a hold of Clare's chin with a finger and his thumb, titling her head up to look at him. The movement in her eyes relieved Eli. "Are you okay?" he asked in concern.

"No," she answered with a whisper.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Eli asked, pulling his hand away after realizing that his hand was slightly dirty from his work outside. He wiped it on his tunic, his eyes never straying from Clare's.

"No," she shook her head sadly. "I must go now."

Clare circled around him and ran out of the kitchen and upstairs the hidden way so she would not have to see her mother or the guest she invited. Once in her bedroom, Clare tore away the pins from her hair, ripping many strands out and causing pain on her scalp. She called for Beth and emotionlessly ordered her to prepare for her outing. After fifteen minutes, Clare was dressed in a green dress with green pins in her hair to match. Beth was so helpful with hair and making her look presentable that Clare momentarily forgot what she was getting dressed for.

"Beth," Clare said while staring at herself in the mirror. There was no hiding the red ring around her eyes, no matter how hard Beth tried applying powder to it.

"Yes Miss Clare," Beth stood alert beside her.

"Did you get a look at Mr. Fitzgerald?"

Clare examined Beth's reaction. A wobble on her feet and darting of the eyes. "He's tall," Beth answered.

"Handsome?" Clare questioned.

"It is not my place to say Miss Clare," Beth moved her head down to stare at the ground.

"Do you think I may like him?"

"I…" Beth opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Come downstairs now Clare," Helen's voice said behind the thick white door.

Clare made her way out of the room, surprising Helen. The youngest Edwards swiftly avoided her mother and rushed downstairs. Once in view of the front door, Clare found her step brother and Katie waiting on the front porch with a tall man who's back was facing her. With a deep breath, Clare stepped outside and greeted her best friend. After giving Katie a hug, she turned to the tall man.

He was nothing like what she remembered from years ago. The Mark Fitzgerald years ago had been very short, a mix of blonde and brown hair, and extremely freckled. This older Mark Fitzgerald now had all brown hair and a clearer complexion. And Clare found him attractive enough, mostly because of his nice eyes. But Clare wasn't going to forget the young Mark Fitzgerald's actions.

"Miss Clare," he said with a smile. Unwillingly, Clare curtsied to him while he bowed. "It is my pleasure to accompany you to town this afternoon and to spend time with your brother and friend."

Clare merely nodded, not finding a proper reply to Mark. Jake offered his arm to Katie and Mark did the same to Clare. She grabbed Mark's elbow with her left hand and they made their way to the carriage.

"Clare, wouldn't you like to bring your hat?" Helen called out behind her. Clare pretended not to hear a word.

The four of them were quickly on their way to town and much like Clare and Katie's last visit to town, Clare stared out of the glass. Jake and Mark were carrying on a conversation that Clare had no interest in, though the boys tried to bring her into the conversation. Katie spoke enough for the both of them though, giving her insight on whatever the topic of discussion had been. But Clare stayed mute until arriving to town.

Once there, Jake and Katie were in front of Clare and Mark and began their walk around the busy town. Clare could hear Jake and Katie's conversation flowing nicely but she had yet to speak a word to Mark and he hadn't tried yet.

When Jake and Katie stopped in front of a trinket vendor, Clare and Mark waited for them because of the strict instructions that neither pair would leave one alone. While Katie and Jake were preoccupied, Mark asked Clare, "I was told that you enjoy talking of politics."

That surprised Clare. "Who told you such a thing?" she demanded to know.

"Your brother," Mark said. "I'm quite interested in politics as well."

"Are you?" Clare challenged. "I thought a woman knowing of politics makes a man feel threatened."

"That is true," Mark laughed. "But that does not change the fact that it impresses me."

"I do not read about politics to impress a man," Clare said in fake niceness. "I educate myself about politics because I wish to know more about our country."

"As do I," Mark added quickly. "This also allows us a topic of conversation that we are both interested in rather than my pretending to enjoy talking about the silly gossip of the town or you pretending to wish to learn more of my family's business."

Clare agreed with Mark there. She was in no mood to pretend that she wanted to know the Fitzgerald business and she had no gossip to talk about like all the ladies of town. And she did prefer talking about topics she actually had interest in.

"So who did your father vote for?" Clare finally turned her entire body to face Mark Fitzgerald and craned her neck back uncomfortable to look at him.

"Lincoln, of course," Mark answered. "Though I doubt that he can unite this severely divided country as he says he will do."

"What do you mean?"

"Well the South wishes to keep their slaves for their plantations and though the country has tried to adapt a sort of compromise to allow the South slaves and the North slavery free, there is still high tension surrounding the topic," Mark said. "The one nominee that stands a chance of defeating Lincoln is a Democrat of the South, undoubtedly favoring slavery. If Lincoln wins, the South will very likely rebel against the president who will attempt to end slavery. If Breckinridge wins, the Free states will be at risk. No matter the outcome of this election, there will be discourse, and I do not doubt a war is in our future."

For the second time today, Clare Edwards was speechless. Though she knew all of this information before, Lincoln's anti-slavery stance and the other candidates, this was the first time a man outside of her family had been so blunt with her. And the prospect of war seemed to fully sink in now. Glen was not the only one who found war possible, it was obvious to others that war was imminent. Mark Fitzgerald made it seem too real for her liking.

"Have I upset you?" Mark asked. "I knew that talking of politics to a woman was not a smart choice, with your fragile emotions and all."

And with that, any sort of positive impressions of Mark that Clare had were gone. "So one minute you were impressed by my interest in politics and because I did not respond to you quickly enough, I'm fragile?" she asked in annoyance.

"Women are said to be emotional," Mark said in defense.

"Men are said to be arrogant," Clare retorted.

"You are a spitfire, aren't you?" Mark stepped closer to her, making her wrap her arms around herself. "A woman like you, not afraid to speak up and have opinions, would be one handful of a wife but more interesting."

Clare attempted not to gag. "Most men do not have patience for a woman as spirited as you," Mark confessed to her, stepping even closer now. "But I have the patience."

"I don't," Clare said as she stepped away from him. Mark was getting to close for her liking and with Jake and Katie's backs turned, they weren't witnessing Clare's discomfort.

"Your mother confessed to me that you have no suitor prospects," Mark continued. "And that you are to inherit a large inheritance from your late father."

"Money that is _mine,_" she said strongly. "My father made it so my inheritance cannot transfer to my future husband's name. No matter what, I am in control of it. And I am only fifteen, suitors will come and _go._"

"But you will deny them, won't you," Mark taunted. "Like you are denying me. I will repeat this Miss Clare. No other man will tolerate your interests outside embroidery and interior design. But I will allow you to continue your interest in politics and any other that you wish, so long as you do not show others that you are more educated than myself."

"You are too hasty sir," Clare fumed. "For I have neither expressed interest in marriage nor interest in you. As much as my mother wishes that I will find my future husband soon, she cannot force me to marry out of my will and I will not marry a man who wishes to suppress my interests and intellect solely because of his pride."

When Mark's hand clamped around her wrist and her body was shoved towards him, Clare feared for her safety for the second time today. She froze again, her usual reaction when she felt that she was in danger.

"Now you listen to me—"

Before Mark could finish the sentence, he was thrown back by a blow to his jaw. Clare jumped in fear and watched Mark tumble to the ground, clutching his face. Jake was now hissing in pain and clutching his right hand. "Oh my!" Clare exclaimed and went to examine her step brother's hand. "We need to find a doctor."

"I'm fine Clare," Jake assured her. "Are you?"

"Yes, yes," she said hastily. "But your hand is red and oh, you have a cut on your knuckle! There must be a doctor in town."

"Clare, Clare, please pause for a second," Jake asked her. She complied and looked up at him but she took her handkerchief and wrapped it tightly around Jake's small wound. "Are you fine? Did he hurt you?"

"No, no," she said, though it was a lie. She felt no physical pain from Mark Fitzgerald but he bruised the already damaged self esteem that Clare possessed.

Jake nodded and turned his head to the writhing man on the ground. "You will never touch her again," Jake said venomously. "You will never set foot on our property again."

Clare walked over to Katie and the two clasped hands. Katie repeatedly asked her if she was fine and Clare kept repeating that Jake was worse off than she was. Once Mark was escorted away, thankfully bystanders had told officers that Mark had grabbed her and Jake was acting in defense, the three of them went to find a doctor to tend to Jake's hand.

Once they made their way to the town clinic, Jake was taken to get his hand examined while Clare and Katie sat in the waiting area. Katie was staring at the doors that Jake disappeared through while Clare fumbled with her fingers.

"He will be fine," Katie said to Clare though Clare knew that Katie was convincing herself.

"He will," Clare nodded. "I think it was a bit silly of him to punch Mark though."

"Now _you_ are being silly," Katie scolded. "Mark laid a hand on you and Jake acted as a man should when he sees a woman in danger."

"I ruined your time with him," Clare said sadly. "I'm so sorry."

Katie took a hold of Clare's hand. "No more apologizing. Jake and I will have more opportunities. I believe my mother has mentioned that Jake will accompany me to church this Sunday."

Clare smiled despite her ruined mood. "That's wonderful Katie. I am overjoyed to hear that you and Jake are finally taking this step."

"I am too," Katie confessed while laughing. "It took quite a long time."

"It did," Clare agreed. Katie kept themselves distracted by giving Clare a detailed summary of the time she has spent with Jake. It was very innocent, talking simply about their families and the town, their childhoods, and the trinkets that Katie was interested in. But as Clare listened to Katie talk about her brother, she saw the genuine feelings her best friend had for her brother. With every mention of Jake's name, Katie's smile grew even more. Clare thought of the one person that made her react the way Katie does when she talked about Jake, and that one person was the one who had brought her out her dark place earlier.

Jake stepped out of the clinic with a bandaged hand with a smile on his face and a doctor right behind him. The two girls immediately walked over to them and Katie reached out to Jake's hand quickly. "Would you like your handkerchief back, miss?" the doctor asked Katie.

"That's Clare's," Katie pointed over to her.

"And no," Clare shook her head with a smile. "A piece of fabric stained with my brother's blood is not one I wish to keep."

The doctor chuckled. "Well if you do not mind, we will have someone wash it and have it donated. Also, you have natural instincts with tending to wounds. Jacob confessed that he was quite impressed."

"Clare has never been a medical type," Jake told the doctor. "But her father was a surgeon so it must be natural."

"Yes, I guess so," Clare agreed. Jake paid a small fee to the doctor and the three of them exited the clinic and started on their long way back to the entrance of town.

The carriage went to the Matlin property first and Clare waited as Jake walked Katie to her door. Clare predicted that Jake must've been contemplating kissing Katie's cheek or her hand to show his affection for her and the look on Jake's face as he climbed back into the carriage showed that he did neither.

"Jake, do not worry about showing your affection the wrong way," Clare told him. "You two have the same feelings for each other."

"I was nervous," Jake confessed. "But I will have other opportunities, right?"

"Of course," Clare smiled. "But the next time you invite her to town, please find another person to come with you. I cannot handle another blind set up by my mother who thinks that she must jump at every opportunity to find me a suitor."

"She asked me to tell her about your time with Mark," Jake said. "And I will be honest. No matter the consequence. And if your mother says any words against you I will not hesitate to put her in her place."

"Jake, please, no," Clare pleaded. "My mother and I—"

"It's painful to hear what she tells you Clare," he replied. "I hope you believe none of it."

"She is convincing."

"Well I know of one who would very much disagree with her perception of you," Jake said.

"Who?" Clare asked curiously.

Jake smirked. "I can't tell you. I've been sworn to secrecy."

Clare playfully glared at him. "That is no fun. But you defended my honor today so I will allow this to slide. But you seem to approve of this man."

"I do," he nods. "Though others would not."

Clare turned her head away from Jake and out the window. She knew exactly who her brother was referring to now. A boy who Jake approved of while the other members of their family would not. And it saddened her to think of this again. Jake has given his own approval, one that Clare values more than her own mother, but Jake's wasn't the opinion that truthfully mattered.

The siblings remained quiet for the duration of the ride home. Once they stepped through the front doors of their house, Helen Edwards was already rushing to ask questions about their day. But upon seeing the bandage on Jake's hand, all discussion shifted to Jake's confession about Mark Fitzgerald. The entire family sat in Glen's office as Jake spoke of Mark's actions.

Clare thought that she would find amusement in her mother realizing that she was wrong to have pushed her into spending a day with a man she didn't know but Helen began to cry. She hugged Clare and apologized for her actions, all of her actions today, and Clare accepted her mother's apology.

"The Fitzgeralds are no longer welcome here," her mother told her while they hugged. Clare was relieved to hear that.

The family had a lively dinner, talking about topics such as the election and the possible war. Glen was more open about talking about what apparently was the South's plan to remove themselves from the country, which would result in a war. Clare saw Jake becoming more uncomfortable as his father spoke about it and as often as Clare tried to switch the topic, Glen continued to speak of it.

After dinner, Clare went to her bedroom to do some reading. Beth helped her change into her night clothing and Clare sat in her comfortable chair, a book in her lap, when she heard a bang on her window.

Slowly, Clare made her way to the window and looked out. With the sun almost fully set it was difficult to see the source of the sound but a waving hand caught her attention. Squinting her eyes, Clare saw that it was Eli sitting on the roof that he was not finished fixing. He was smiling at her, a hand waving to her. He began gesturing something that Clare could not decipher. She pushed the window up and poked her head out.

"Are you able to catch?" Eli whispered to her loudly.

"What?" Clare asked in confusion but she didn't receive an answer before something was flying up to her face. She reached out for the item that Eli presumably threw. Thankfully she caught it and she went back into her room to look at what it was.

A book. A book of blank pages, except for the first page. In messy handwriting was a message, making Clare's heart swell as she read.

_She walks in beauty, like the night  
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;  
And all that's best of dark and bright  
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:  
Thus mellowed to that tender light_  
_Which heaven to gaudy day denies._

_One shade the more, one ray the less,_  
_Had half impaired the nameless grace_  
_Which waves in every raven tress,_  
_Or softly lightens o'er her face;_  
_Where thoughts serenely sweet express_  
_How pure, how dear their dwelling place._

_And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,_  
_So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,_  
_The smiles that win, the tints that glow,_  
_But tell of days in goodness spent,_  
_A mind at peace with all below,_  
_A heart whose love is innocent!_


	4. Late November

**I love writing this story. Also, this was a chapter that I did not plan but thought that there needed to be a chapter between the last one and the next one. But I really love it.**

**Also, some important things****: I think that this will be my last story. I am seriously doubting that I will be writing new stories after this. There are many factors as to why but I don't want to bore you (if you're actually reading this since many just skip the author's note – I am guilty of that) but I've been thinking about this since I started writing this story. I think that I'm just going to pour every ounce of my love of writing fanfic into this story to make it an amazing exit story. Leaving on a high, if you will. And I'm announcing it here since you all are the ones who are reading my stories and probably care to know.**

**So yeah, once I finish this story, I will very likely be done writing fanfiction. But that will not be for A LONG TIME. There will be 20+ chapters of this story and if you found the first 4 eventful, you haven't seen anything yet!**

**Thanks for reading and I would appreciate it if you reviewed.**

* * *

In Late November Helen and Glen left to visit Helen's ailing mother, who was reportedly weeks away from passing. Originally Glen had planned a two week visit but Helen decided to extend the trip so they may buy and order the necessary supplies for Clare's sixteenth birthday celebration that was still over a month away. So with three weeks without their parents and only the maids and servants of the house as their supervision, Clare and Jake used the time to their advantage.

Jake spent more time out of the house and at the Matlin household to spend more time with Katie. Clare would see Jake returning after an entire day, a happy grin on his face, and he'd tell her what they did that day. Mostly it was just walking around the plantation, talking about any topic they wished. They would be joined by Katie's younger sibling Maya who apparently did a great job being inconspicuous. Jake also had dinner there several times which meant that Clare would have dinner alone.

But instead of eating alone for her dinner, Clare would eat her meals in the kitchen where the cooks would keep her company. At first they were hesitant to allow the Edwards daughter to eat out of place but Clare had promised them that her mother would not find out. So for the time that Helen and Glen were out, Clare would eat at the small table inside the kitchen to find out more about the cooks who worked for her family.

How Clare spent her days varied. At first she simply read more, finishing several books within the first week. A lot of the time she spent sitting at the window sill where Eli had thrown her the book of blank pages. She read the words repeatedly, when she woke up in the morning and before she fell asleep at night.

_She walks in beauty, like the night  
Of cloudless climes and starry skies…_

Clare wanted to know what made Eli send this to her. The words were beautiful and sweet it made her feel special, that a boy would send her a poem so touching. She wasn't sure if he was the one who had written it but even if he hadn't, he still sent the poem to her.

After the first week of being parent-less, Clare found herself spending more and more time outside. Sitting on the patio and reading, taking a walk around the plantation, sitting on the tree-swing her father built for her and Darcy. Aside from her time going back and forth from her lessons, Clare never really spent leisurely time outside. But without a mother to stop her and tell her not to get her dress dirty, Clare did whatever she wanted.

Hours after spending her dinner with the kitchen cooks, Clare, clad in her sleepwear and a thin robe, exited her house through the backdoor and stood on the back porch to stare into the night sky. She often did this through an open window but nothing felt as good as standing outside, feeling the cold, soon-to-be winter breeze against her entire body.

But a tiny sound was enough to make Clare shriek in terror.

Jumping back and clutching the fabric around her, Clare's heart pounded as she searched for the source of the sound.

"Who is it? Who are you?" she asked quietly but harshly.

"I'm sorry that I scared you."

Eli emerged from a corner, a not-so-sorry smile on his face. "I returned to pick up something I left in Jake's shed. I saw you standing there and thought I would watch for a little while to make sure you were okay. But after realizing that you were outside by choice, not from sadness or anger, I thought I would surprise you."

"I do not enjoy surprises," Clare mumbled, blushing madly as she stared at her feet.

"I will try to remember that," Eli replied with slight laughter.

Silence enveloped them for minutes, a comfortable one, as Clare turned her gaze back to the night sky and Eli slowly walked towards Clare, leaning against the porch railing and making sure to leave several feet between them. After the minutes of silence, Clare turned her head and found Eli standing a lot closer than she had realized. If she halfway extended her arm, she would be touching him.

"I…" At a loss for words, as Clare often was around Eli, she just clamped her mouth shut and turned away again.

But Eli seemed to read her mind when he spoke up to ask, "Did you enjoy the poem?"

"I did," Clare admitted smiling. "I…was wondering…did you write it yourself?"

Eli pushed himself away from the railing and extended a hand out to her. "Will you take a walk with me?"

"Now?"

Clare was not dressed for a walk nor was it the time for a walk. And the boy asking her to take a walk with him was basically a stranger to her. She wasn't sure if she wanted to accept his offer but she had to admit that she was curious to do it.

"Don't worry," Eli leaned his head closer to her. "I will protect you." He shrugged off his tattered jacket and placed it around her shoulders. "Now, will you come with me?"

Clare looked Eli's extended hand, her arms hidden underneath a light but warm jacket, and Eli himself, an amused but pleading expression on his face. And in that moment, Clare knew she would be foolish to deny him.

So Clare placed her hand in Eli's. "Yes, I will."

Clare found it rather strange. While this property was hers by birth and she had lived here her entire life, it seemed that Eli knew more about it that she did. She followed him as he walked, not that she had a choice in the matter since Eli's grip did not seem to loosen one bit, and followed as he cut through a shortcut to the small lake that indicated the end of the Edwards plantation. What normally was a ten minute walk became a five minute walk with Eli's path.

It was also strange to be at the lake at this time. As a child, Clare would often sit by the lake during the noon-afternoon hours and watch as ducks swam by. But at the darkest and most silent time of night, the lake was different. And even more magical.

It was breathtaking, Clare thought. The moon was just peeking through the highest of the trees and the water rippled with the wind and the moonlight created beautiful little waves in the water. Clare stood at the edge, staring at the scenery in front of her, as she felt Eli's fingers curl between hers.

"This is wonderful," she found herself saying with the most amazed tone. "Just beautiful."

"I knew that you must've not have been allowed to come out of your house at this time of night to enjoy this," Eli gestured to the entire area in front of them. "So I thought that while your parents were out of town, we just might achieve the most rebellious actions we can imagine."

"And leaving my house late at night to see the lake would count as rebellious?" Clare asked.

"Doesn't it?" Eli shrugged. Leaning down to her again, he whispered, "Your mother would be furious if she found out."

Clare giggled and had to agree. "Yes, yes she would."

When Eli pointed to a large boulder, Clare perched herself onto it and took the initiative to pull Eli up to sit next to her. So they sat shoulder to shoulder for a while, listening to nothing but the gentle rustle of the leaves above them and the wavering water.

"I…" Clare slowly began as her hand found Eli's again. "I don't believe you answered my previous question."

Eli's eyes narrowed. "Which?"

"About the poem," Clare clarified. "If you had written it yourself."

"Oh," Eli said. "I did not write it myself. It is by an English poet named Lord Byron. I first read the poem as a thirteen year old when my mother found one of her old journals where she wrote poems she enjoyed. It's a poem about finding a lady beautiful so that is why I gave it to you."

"You…you think I'm…"

"Of course I do, I do not take poetry and their meaning lightly," he teased.

Clare cleared her throat and retracted her hand away from Eli's. She placed her hands in her lap and stared into them, having no idea what how to respond. She hadn't imagined that this conversation would have gone this way. That night she received the poem she wished to know what made him give her the poem but hadn't thought it was an admission of how he saw her, which was beautiful.

"I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable," Eli said softly, interrupting Clare's thoughts. "I did not intend to, much like scaring you earlier."

"It's quite fine," Clare assured him awkwardly. "I am just…inexperienced with speaking this openly with a boy who is not part of my family nor one that my mother has forced me to converse with."

"And at this hour," Eli added.

"Yes," Clare said with rolling eyes. She attempted to stifle a yawn but failed when her yawn made a sound. "I apologize, I do not find you boring, I am just tired. Adventures after midnight are not ones that I am used to."

"Well." Eli jumped down from the boulder and offered his two hands to Clare. "We should be getting you back before anyone notices your absence."

Clare took a hold of Eli's hands and with his help, she jumped down from the boulder. She was not as graceful as Eli though, tripping over her feet, and promptly landing right against Eli's chest. Once she recovered from her embarrassment, Clare realized how closely pressed up she was to Eli. Figuring that the wrapped arms around her frame was simply a reflex to protect her, it helped Clare to step away from Eli's warm body rather than do what she really wanted to do, which was to stay in his arms.

"Thank you," she blushingly said, avoiding his eyes. She quickly turned and walked down Eli's shortcut path, putting a good amount of distance between the two of them.

As Clare listened to her footsteps crinkling the leaves of the grass and Eli's own footsteps behind her, she could also hear and feel her heart pounding. Never had she been so close to a person in such an intimate manner. The last encounter that she could remember that had been intimate was a hug from her father, intimate in the way of saying goodbye to a sick and dying father. But this was romantically intimate, the kind she read about and imagined in Pride and Prejudice and the other novels she loved.

The romances she so vividly played in her mind, the one that she longed for, was playing out right in front of her. But she was the only one imagining it. How could she find out if Eli felt the same things are her? She had no courage to ask him and she certainly wasn't willing to lose some of her dignity by asking her step-brother to ask for her.

The romance was playing in her mind, mixing with instances of novels, that maybe she was only imagining reality as what she wanted, not what was truly happening. As the house neared, Clare promised herself that she would stop reading the novels, at least for a short period, to clear her mind and come back to reality.

Once Clare stepped up to her porch, she turned and looked down at Eli. "I would like to sincerely thank you for taking me on such a wonderful adventure tonight," she said to him. "I shamefully forgot that there are places of this property that provide a wonderful hiding place that offers beautiful scenery as well."

"It was my pleasure," Eli smiled, bowing slightly.

"Will I see you again soon?" Clare found herself asking despite trying not to look too eager.

Eli dropped his gaze to the grass. "I do not know when I will return here. I finished fixing the patio just in time for the winter and only returned to pick up my tools."

"Oh," Clare tried to hide her disappointment by stepping back further into the patio, shading her face. "Then I will…see you when we cross paths again."

"I guess you will," he replied.

Clare did a hasty curtsy and went to enter her house but stopped when she heard Eli say her name. Turning around, Eli had come onto the patio and stopped a few feet in front of her. A look of question was on his face.

"I…" Eli said slowly. His eyes glanced different directions as if he was collecting his thoughts. "Write to me."

"Pardon?"

Eli took one step closer. "Using the blank journal I threw to you, write to me. Write me a poem that you've read or one of your own creation or about your day. Write to me. Write an entire page. Then leave the journal somewhere for me to find and write back to you."

Clare was astonished at this request. So this was his plan all along? "Where would I leave it so no one will find it other than you?"

"I suggest the boulder," Eli smirked. "Find a hiding place at that area and I will find it. That will be our place. We will write to each other every day. Deposit the journal during the afternoon or night and I will find it in the morning. We can follow this pattern and share poems or a log of our days."

Clare's mind started to fill with the poems that she had read before that she desperately wished for Eli to know as well. And as risky as this exchange would be, especially once her mother returned, she was so excited to begin this daily communication with Eli that she replied to him with a serious and happy, "I will."

Before she knew it, Eli kissed her hand and quickly exited, making it seem like Clare had imagined the entire night. He had disappeared so quickly that as Clare walked back up to her room silently, it felt as if she had been sleepwalking. But once she sat back on her bed and picked up the journal, she saw the dark fabric that covered her arms. She was still wearing Eli's jacket. She hugged the jacket and the journal to her body and sighed.

It was not a dream. Even her vivid imagination could not imagine such a beautiful and perfect night.


	5. Journals

_Journal Entry 1_

_December 4__th__, 1860_

_You asked me to write to you. Here I am, fulfilling your request._

_I find this rather silly. I do not know what you wish to hear from me. My days are not eventful, I am sure you know that, and I do not wish to bore you about my hours of school and my lonely afternoons. While my mother and step-father are gone on their trip, I have found that without my mother telling me to fill my time with embroidery or helping her with a new craft, that I do not know any other activity other than reading._

_But I do have something of interest to report. Jake has been seeing the lovely Katie Matlin whom you met that day at town. If you need reminding, she is the one with the correct manners. Jake has been seeing Katie often recently and arrives home with the biggest smile on his face, one I have never seen on him. Our parents have granted permission for Jake to court Katie, as did Katie's parents, and I do not doubt that a wedding will soon be on the horizon. I sure wish they would wait until after my birthday though, which is not for a while but still, I'd like my birthday to be a day to celebrate me. I apologize if that sounded selfish. But a person only has one day a year dedicated to themselves._

_I think Jake and Katie are a match made in heaven. They are simply two wonderful people who luckily found each other in this world. And I do not mean to take all responsibility of bringing them together but if I had not befriended Katie and brought her to our house, I doubt that either of them would be so happy._

_My page is almost full so I must stop writing. I guess I do not find this silly. Writing to you is writing my thoughts that I have desperately wished to tell another. Thank you for allowing me to write to you._

_Clare_

_._

* * *

_Journal Entry 2_

_December 7__th__, 1860_

_Clare,_

_I sincerely apologize for not replying to you sooner. I had trouble finding your hiding place. I suspect that you had hidden it before the snow storm and all of the snow had covered up any hiding place I could think of. But as the snow melted, the hollow section of the tree beside the boulder opened up as well, revealing a magically dry journal. I first thought that you hadn't written to me and feared that you decided not to, but according to the date of your entry, my worries were for naught._

_It makes me happy that Jake and Katie found love between them. In this day most marriages occur on account of convenience and matching classes – rarely for love. It makes me sad to think about, as love is one of the most exhilarating emotions one can feel. To truly love another, to picture spending your life with them – Jake is lucky to have found true love in a wonderful girl. Please tell me when their wedding is planned, I must make them something special for their wedding._

_You mentioned at the beginning of your entry that you enjoy reading. What book are you reading currently? I hope you don't mind me asking._

_I leave you now with a fitting quote from the author Thomas Moore;_

_A friendship that like love is warm; a love like friendship, steady._

_Until next time,_

_Eli_

_._

* * *

_Journal Entry 3_

_December 8__th__, 1860_

_Eli,_

_How sweet the answer Echo makes__  
__To music at night,__  
__When, roused by lute or horn, she wakes,__  
__And far away, o'er lawns and lakes,__  
__Goes answering light.__Yet Love hath echoes truer far,__  
__And far more sweet,__  
__Than e'er beneath the moonlight's star,__  
__Of horn or lute, or soft guitar,__  
__The songs repeat.__'Tis when the sigh, in youth sincere,__  
__And only then -__  
__The sigh that's breathed for one to hear,__  
__Is by that one, that only dear,__  
__Breathed back again!_

_This is my favorite poem by Thomas Moore, entitled Echo. Please tell me that you enjoy it as much as I. I believe that it is talking of the beauty of love as it responds to you, much like how music encourages a happy reaction in your body. The way music makes you feel is comforting as being loved in youth. Also, I believe the last stanza means hearing the sound of your love brings you to life._

_Clare_

_._

* * *

_Journal Entry 4_

_December 9__th__, 1860_

_Clare,_

_Thank you for that poem, for it was definitely beautiful and agreeable. I have a quote from Shakespeare to add onto your poem. From Twelfth Night;_

_If music be the food of love, play on._

_And if I were able to play an instrument, I would surely play for you._

_But alas, I am not musically inclined. So you must settle for our writing back and forth. I have been working on a poem for you but I have not finished. You will have to wait until then!_

_Yours,_

_Eli_

_._

* * *

_Journal Entry 5_

_December 10__th__, 1860_

_Eli,_

_If there was ever a time we could spend alone in the ballroom where our grand piano is placed, I would love to teach you. My father was a skilled pianist, among his many skills, and during his rare free time he taught me several songs to play. I don't believe that I would be very skilled now, as I have not played since my father's death. But I will attempt to re-learn for you._

_I do not have a poem or a story for you today. But my mother and step-father will be home soon and Jake and I must talk to match our stories that we will tell our parents of our two weeks without them. We cannot tell them that Jake has been at the Matlin property so often and I surely cannot tell my mother what I have truly been doing. I wish to tell her about you, please know that I am not ashamed, but I cannot stress my relationship with my mother any further._

_I wish to see you again soon, not only communicate through script. But I sense another winter storm is coming._

_Clare_

_._

* * *

_Journal Entry 6_

_December 31__st__, 1860_

_Eli,_

_I very much hope that you did not walk back and forth from our hiding place every day for the past few weeks. With the biggest snow storm of the winter and my mother's arrival, I have not been able to bring our journal to our tree. My mother would have a fit if she found me treading through the snow in one of the new dresses she bought for me on her trip._

_When my parents returned they immediately began talking about my birthday party, which is still two months away. They've invited many people, have placed orders for decorations and gifts and other items that I find unnecessary for my party. How am I to tell my mother that while I appreciate her plans, they've become too extraordinary for my liking? I do not wish to hurt her feelings but I fear that she is spending so much money for my birthday and will not have enough for Jake's future wedding._

_I should clear this up: Jake is not yet engaged but after witnessing his father give him a ring, I believe an engagement will soon occur!_

_Again, I am so sorry for the delay. There is no excuse for my absence. I give you full permission to serve me a punishment if you see fit. Though I do hope this punishment will not be embarrassing._

_With sincerest apologies,_

_Clare_

_._

* * *

_Journal Entry 7_

_January 3__rd__, 1861_

_Dear Clare,_

_You neither mentioned Christmas nor the coming of the new year in your last entry. Instead you wrote to me about wishing for a less extravagant birthday party, Jake's soon-to-be engagement, and many apologies. Needless to say, you made me smile, as you always do. You had been so worried that I would be angry for not receiving an entry from you for three weeks that two holidays slipped from your mind._

_I do not wish to punish you, though many possibilities did come into my mind. But you are a lady and I am merely a boy, I cannot ask you to do anything._

_Have you been practicing piano with all of your time indoors? I sure hope so. The times I walk past your house to look for this journal, I have only heard silence. I am wishing that I will hear beautiful music the next time I walk by. Also, please be direct with your mother. You will not achieve anything if you leave things silent._

_From Shakespeare play Hamlet, To thine own self be true._

_I hope to see you soon as well. But I was very close to falling into the icy lake when I came to find the journal and I do not wish the same fate for you. So please be careful when you come to our tree. And we will see each other once the weather permits._

_Yours,_

_Eli_

_._

* * *

_Journal Entry 8_

_January 7__th__, 1861_

_Eli,_

_Take this kiss upon the brow!__  
__And, in parting from you now,__  
__Thus much let me avow-__  
__You are not wrong, who deem__  
__That my days have been a dream;__  
__Yet if hope has flown away__  
__In a night, or in a day,__  
__In a vision, or in none,__  
__Is it therefore the less gone?__  
__All that we see or seem__  
__Is but a dream within a dream.__I stand amid the roar__  
__Of a surf-tormented shore,__  
__And I hold within my hand__  
__Grains of the golden sand-__  
__How few! yet how they creep__  
__Through my fingers to the deep,__  
__While I weep-while I weep!__  
__O God! can I not grasp__  
__Them with a tighter clasp?__  
__O God! can I not save__  
__One from the pitiless wave?__  
__Is all that we see or seem__  
__But a dream within a dream?_

_-__ Edgar Allan Poe_

_Clare_

_This was my father's favorite poem. He first read it in a periodical published four years after my birth and he gifted the periodical to me on the last birthday I spent with him._

_._

* * *

_Journal Entry 9_

_January 8__th__, 1861_

_Dear Clare,_

_I am starting to believe that the weather is conspiring to keep us apart. But alas, here I am writing to you._

_Thank you for sharing your father's favorite poem with me. I had few encounters with your father and surely he did not tell you this. On days when I accompanied my mother to your house and your father was home he would give me candied fruit. Once he encouraged me to try coffee and let me tell you, it was the bitterest taste I have ever tasted. I knew your father little but from what I know of him, he was a very nice man._

_I will answer your poem by Poe with a quotation from Poe's short story Eleonora._

_Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things that escape those who dream only at night._

_Yours,_

_Eli_

_._

* * *

_Journal Entry 10_

_January 17__th__, 1861_

_Dearest Clare,_

_Your absence is troubling. Have you decided to end our communication? If so, it saddens me extremely but I will respect it. But you must confirm this. If you have not decided to end our communication then there is something that is taking up all of your time. I hope what it is that is taking up all of your time is enjoyable._

_I hope you are well. To write that I miss your company is an understatement._

_Yours,_

_Eli_

_._

* * *

_In the form of a letter:_

_January 27__th__, 1861_

_Dearest Clare,_

_If you are currently reading this letter then Jake has successfully done his task. _

_While I journeyed back to our tree I was caught by your step-brother who promptly informed me that you have been bedridden with a sickness. Jake fully described to me your symptoms. I wish to be with you during this time to encourage you to stay well, to hold your hand, to accompany you in your time of sickness, but I was told that aside from a doctor and your mother, no one is to enter your room._

_Your strength is no match for this sickness. You will be well soon, I know it. You will journey back to our special place where I will be waiting for you every day until you are well enough to join me._

_My heart is ever at your service._

_I wish I may take credit for that quote, for it defines my feelings for you, but it is from Shakespeare._

_Always yours,_

_Eli_

_._

* * *

_In the form of a letter:_

_February 8__th__, 1861_

_Eli,_

_Love comforteth like sunshine after rain._

_Yours,_

_Clare_


	6. March

**This chapter spans a long period of time, about a month. So much happens here. But after this chapter, the other chapters will be a lot better. FINALLY, the story truly begins now.**

**Sorry it took so long to update. Also, if you're still reading and enjoying, please review. There's been less and less reviews with each chapter so if you're still here, thank you, but how about writing a quick review? That'd be nice.**

**Thanks to ****takethecurve****, ****eliclarecammaya****, ****Xlovestory33X****, ****ForverInYourArms****, ****alicia4568****, ****DegrassiLover2010****, ****legitdegrassi****, ****The Sunshine ray****, and ****Littlemissartsi**** for reviewing the last chapter. :)**

**Thanks for reading and please review.**

* * *

After Clare's long bout of sickness, she finally regained her strength, slowly but surely, over the course of a month and a half.

The doctor diagnosed her with the measles, causing her to break out into a rash all over her body and a significant spike in her temperature. Having been bedridden for a long time and seeing no one other than a doctor and her mother, both of whom only spent a minute or so at a time with her, Clare was feeling extremely lonely.

With her sickness and loneliness, there was a scary moment during the month and a half when Clare had no more fight in her. The redness had taken over her entire body, causing likely permanent scarring of her skin, and there were days when she slept more than she was awake. So her mind was telling her to remain asleep.

One night during the worse of her sickness, she listened to her door opening and someone moving towards her. A cool hand felt good against her forehead and she managed to wake.

"I have something for you," the soft voice said. "I've been given a letter to read to you. I hope you do not mind."

Clare slowly shook her head. Jake's face became visible when he lit a candle and laid it on her bed side table.

"_Dearest Clare,_" Jake began to read. "_If you are currently reading this letter then Jake has successfully done his task."_

A genuine laugh came from Clare. A quiet one but still, she smiled. "_While I journeyed back to our tree I was caught by your step-brother__ who promptly informed me that you have been bedridden with a sickness. Jake fully described to me your symptoms. I wish to be with you during this time to encourage you to stay well, to hold your hand, to accompany you in your time of sickness, but I was told that aside from a doctor and your mother, no one is to enter your room."_

From her half opened eyes, Clare saw Jake smile. "_Your strength is no match for this sickness. You will be well soon, I know it. You will journey back to our special place where I will be waiting for you every day until you are well enough to join me._"

With every single word, Clare felt more energy running through her. Her mind began to change its course.

"I think you should read the next parts yourself," Jake suggested. "Are you well enough to?"

Clare nodded her head. Jake moved the candle so Clare could clearly read the letter. Craning her neck slightly, she read Eli's beautiful words. "_My heart is ever at your service._"

Jake folded the letter and placed in on the table. "I agree with him. You will be well soon. So please, do not give into your sickness. Don't give up for me, my father, your mother, and…for Eli."

Jake placed his cool hand against Clare's hair, brushing it away from her face. "I need you here. Selfishly, I need you here. Who will offer me advice when I propose to Katie? Who will make me laugh across the table at dinner?"

"I will be strong," Clare promised. She could feel herself being pulled back into a long, deep sleep. But she stayed away long enough to hear Jake's parting words.

"I wished for you to find love as I have found mine," he said in a whisper. "And you have, that is clear. So do not give up."

"But mother," Clare managed to reply.

"She married for love, why should you be prevented from doing the same?"

Those were the last words Clare heard before she fell back asleep. The day after her secret talk with Jake, Clare's temperature was notably lower and she was able to sit up and eat small bites of food. After three weeks Clare was well enough to stand and walk around her room again where she spent a considerable time staring out her window towards the direction of the lake. She wrote Eli a return letter which she convinced her maid to give to Jake, who would know what to do.

By mid February the doctor gave her the permission to finally exit her room, after regaining her health. While she was no longer bedridden with fever, her body was still tired from having stayed in her bed for a long time. Also when she saw her skin again in the mirror, permanently scarred and red from the measles, she wanted to cry. Her skin had always been soft and unmarked. Now her skin was rough and running with faint red lines and spots.

But Clare reminded herself that the scars upon her body were nothing compared to the worse that may have happened.

More than a month after Clare was healthy enough to walk again, Clare found her mother in the midst of chaos in her home. There were flowers placed everywhere, many of the furniture of the main sitting area were gone, and the ballroom was being decorated.

She approached her mother and waited for her to finish her conversation with a man in a suit.

"We will need extra help for serving and such," Helen was telling the man. "Also for set up and clean up after the party. How many you see fit will be fine."

The man finished off with his notes and bowed toward Helen and Clare. "Oh Clare, why are you wearing only your stockings?" Helen exclaimed upon seeing her daughter. "You look like our help!"

"I've been ill, mother," Clare replied. "I have no energy to put on my corset and have a heavy dress surrounding me."

Helen was ready to reply but she sighed. "That's quite alright," she said in defeat. "But you will wear a beautiful dress for your party."

"Yes mother," Clare promised. Her birthday had passed already, with having been ill and sleeping her birthday away. But her mother was not about to let a day of celebration go to waste and she postponed the party until Clare was healthy enough to host one.

As her mother walked away, Clare grimaced as she thought about being constricted by a corset and the rough, expensive fabric of the dress grazing against her skin. But walking past all of the changes her mother made to the house for the big birthday celebration, she knew she could not let her mother down.

As she approached her bedroom she called upon her maid Beth and asked her to help put on her corset and dress. Clare ordered Becky to be gentle and to stop whenever asked. Before the corset was even around her torso, Clare was prepared to quit. The stiff corset was rough against her arms as Beth tried to slip it above her head.

It took Clare an hour to put on her corset and dress, neither of which were put on as tight as usual. She looked at herself in the mirror, tears welling up in her eyes at the sight of the unfamiliar body in the expensive dress. Her sickness had taken away her energy, the beauty of her skin, and her confidence.

"What is wrong, Miss Clare?" Beth asked.

"I cannot even put on a dress," Clare said through slight sobs. "My skin hurts too much for this itchy fabric, my stomach cannot handle being constricted, and look at all of these scars. My mother hardly believed I was beautiful like Darcy before. Her reaction to seeing my scarred skin will be horrible."

Beth stepped closer to her. "There is a salve you may apply to your skin to lessen the pain and the redness. And you have always been beautiful Miss Clare. Not a day has passed when I have not admired your beauty."

Clare wiped away her tears and said, "Beth, I had a feeling that you would respond in that manner."

"It does not make my words any less true," Beth replied. "Shall I find the salve?"

Clare nodded and as quickly as possible, took off her dress and corset and dressed in her more comfortable undergarments that covered her entire body. She stayed in her room for the remaining days until her birthday, claiming that she needed to rest for her big day. But she really just wanted to prevent more people from seeing her new appearance.

When the big day arrived, Clare was awoken very early in the morning at her mother's urging. Guests were to arrive at noon but her mother knew how long her daughter would get dressed and prepared for the long party ahead of her. So even before the sun rose, Beth was helping Clare bathe, wash her hair, apply salve all over her body, and then carefully and slowly into her expensive, new party dress.

As Beth had told her, the salve had done wonders for her irritated and red skin. But it surely wasn't helping with the corset which now felt even tighter than before her sickness. Also, because her mother bought her new dress during her trip away during November, it was heavy fabric and had even more layers than Clare was used to. By the time she finished getting dressed it was already a quarter to ten.

A while after noon, Clare was finally all prepared to head downstairs to meet her guests. Beth aided her down the stairs and by the time she reached the bottom of the large staircase, she was already winded.

"Oh my mother will be angry," Clare whispered to Beth. "It seems that everyone has arrived."

Many voices were trailing from the ballroom, along with Helen's distinct laughter, making Clare even more nervous than she was before. Once she got to the ballroom doorway, Beth stepped away from her slowly and gave her an encouraging smile.

Clare entered the ballroom inconspicuously as she watched the ballroom full of talkative and dancing guests. She didn't recognize any of them until spotting Katie Matlin and her younger sister speaking to her step brother. Clare attempted to make her way to Katie, Jake, and Maya without catching her mother's attention but failed as she started to be pulled to a backdoor of the ballroom.

"Young lady, where have you been?" Helen scolded Clare. "You are late to your own celebration."

"I was getting ready, mother," Clare answered calmly. She took in the appearance of her mother; pale face, rouged lips, and hair so fluffed that any object could get stuck in there and she wouldn't notice.

"Everyone has been waiting for you," Helen continued, disregarding Clare's answer. "There have been many eligible men asking if they may dance with you and of course I accepted. Oh so many of them would like to dance with you, you'll be dancing all day!"

Just the thought of even spinning around once made Clare's head hurt. "Mother, must I…"

"Yes Clare and you'll do so now," Helen said sternly. "We've had to postpone this party for months—"

"Because I was ill—"

"And you will not ruin it now simply because you don't want to," Helen pointedly said. "Now I will go introduce you to the first man to ask me for a dance with you and you will be polite and smile to this man. You will not speak, you will listen to him. And you will only spend a minute with him. Is that clear?"

Clare was in no mood to follow her mother's instructions. The dress was already making her too warm and the salve was no longer working and she longed to itch under her dress. Additionally, her mother was more harsh to her now than she had been before she'd been ill.

"Shall I give away my brain since I do not need it to talk to these men you've lined up for me?" Clare couldn't help but reply rudely.

"Clare Diana, you will—" Helen's hand raised close to Clare's cheek, causing Clare to flinch out of reflex, but the sound of an opening door caused both mother and daughter to freeze.

"What is going on here?" Glen demanded, taking a hold of Helen's arm and roughly pulling her away from Clare. "Were you about to hit our daughter?"

"No," Helen said in fear. "No!"

Turning his head away from his wife, Glen turned to Clare and softly said, "Clare, go ahead and attend your party. Find your friends. We will see you in there."

Clare nodded and quickly walked back into the party and darted toward Jake. Upon finding her step brother she grasped his arm and stood behind him, trying to catch her breath.

"Clare." Jake made no move to push Clare away but simply talked to her over his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," Clare's nervous voice came out and said. Clearing her throat slightly, she continued. "Yes. Mother's just making me dance with so many. I can hardly breathe as of right now."

"The party is an all day affair, I'm sure your suitors can wait as you catch your breath," Jake assured her. "Are you still feeling poorly?"

"I'm quite alright but nowhere near enough to dance with men I don't know. But mother is right. She's had to postpone for months, I can't refuse."

Jake turned around to face her and led her away from oncoming men waiting to speak with her. "Clare, that doesn't even make any sort of sense. Enjoy yourself," Jake urged her. "You haven't seen more than your bedroom and the scenery outside your windows. If a man wishes to dance with you, you choose if you would like to dance with them. There's only little time in this world and you should live it as you please."

Thought the speech was supposed to be encouraging Clare couldn't help but notice the seriousness in Jake's eyes. She could sense that Jake was no longer thinking about her having to dance with so many people; this was more than that.

"Jake, what do you really mean to say?" Clare tried to ask before Jake stepped away from her. She watched him weave his way into the large crowd and reach Katie, taking Katie's arms and whisking her onto the dance floor.

It didn't take long for an unknown young man to approach Clare and after seeing her mother enter the ballroom again, Clare decided to agree to a brief dance. The song being played by the band was fast though and Clare stumbled trying to follow the boy's lead. The boy was courteous though, asking her questions of her party and her sickness, offering words of relief for her recovery. Once the dance was over, Clare asked for his name again. A blush appeared for on his cheeks as he answered with the words Wesley Betenkamp. Curtseying to Mr. Betenkamp, Clare walked away to catch her breath but with a smile on her face.

An older gentleman whose name Clare couldn't remember convinced her to dance a while later. As the man barely made the effort to match their dance to all of the other couples' dance, Clare was grateful for it but then also unsure. The man hadn't said a word; he simply looked over her head but swayed back and forth.

"You are sixteen now, yes?" the man asked her without eye contact.

"Yes," Clare replied.

"And your step-brother Jacob, is he around the same age?"

"Older."

"And how does he feel about war?"

"Opposed," Clare answered surely. "As any person would. What is the meaning of this?"

"Ms. Edwards, I apologize for my rudeness," the man said with a slight bow. "I did not mean to startle or scare. But the talk of war has been stirring for the past months after the cold winter. I had thought that since your step father has been participating in Boston meetings that he would have spoken to your family about the impending war."

"Impending war?" Clare questioned in terror. "I have been bedridden since December and have not heard any news since then."

The man's eyes widened. "Then I apologize for having scared you for no reason. I must be going."

"No," Clare grasped the man's arm and prevented him from leaving. "Please, tell me why you asked about my brother. And please tell me about what has been happening."

"I am sure your family does not wish for you to know—"

"You will tell me now," Clare demanded. "Mr…"

"Cameron," he answered. "Sean Cameron."

"Mr. Cameron. Please," she begged. "Your words will not contain the bias and the lies that my step father's or my mother's words will contain."

"Then we must find a quiet place to speak."

Clare lead the way to the opposite side of the house toward Glen's office. Once inside, Clare started to search for any of the step father's newspapers as Mr. Cameron began to explain.

"I am sure you were aware of the Southern states' threatening of succession months ago before the election. But since then, they have succeeded. Six states has now considered themselves to be separated from the country and I am sure that I do not have to explain the danger of this all," Sean Cameron said in a nervous voice. His eyes kept darting toward the door and it was clear that he was worried that he would be in trouble if he was caught spreading this information.

"They now call themselves the Confederate States and elected their own president, Jefferson Davis. The newspapers have not updated the North of the South's actions for a while but there has been talk that once the war does begin, some northern states will arrange voluntary regiments."

"Regiments?" Clare asked.

"Soldiers," Mr. Cameron clarified. "Some states will take volunteers to fight the war. Massachusetts will be one of them."

Clare stopped moving and looked over to the nervous looking Sean Cameron. He stood rigidly at the center of the office, holding his hat to his torso. "You are looking for volunteers," Clare whispered in shock, figuring out who he was. "You are here to take away young men, young men with futures to look forward to, not a war that they have no business going into."

"Ms. Edwards—"

"Who are you to come onto this property to take away men from their families and homes?" Clare asked on the verge of tears. "These men are good men!"

"Voluntary only," Mr. Cameron said to her. "But you must know this Ms. Edwards. This war is not as you think it is. There will be men in your ballroom, attending your party, who will volunteer for the regiment and head South. You must come to terms with that now before the war officially begins. We are days away and we need to prepare."

"Don't take my brother away," Clare pleaded. "Please."

"I will not take anyone against their will, that I can assure you," Mr. Cameron said. "But many boys have been speaking already of their willingness to defend their country. To protect their families and their homes. I am sure that your brother will want to protect you."

"He can protect me from here," she replied sternly.

"He may," Mr. Cameron nodded. "That is all I can tell you as of now, Ms. Edwards. If you can please keep this conversation between us. Your step father wished for me to conduct my business as quietly as possible."

"He knew? You mean…Glen knows you're here?"

Again, Mr. Cameron nodded. "At our last meeting, all were aware and attending this party and we found it to be a good idea if we conversed with men attending and approached them with the idea. I will tell you again Ms. Edwards. We are not taking men against their will. I understand your distress that we've done this on your day—"

"It's not that," Clare assured him. "It's neither my birthday nor my day."

"Regardless, I hadn't intended to worry anyone and you, especially. But if I may ask a favor of you?"

With a nod from Clare, he continued. "May you please keep this information to yourself. Discuss with your brother and father if you must but no women. A frenzy is the last thing we need."

"Yes, yes, I promise," Clare replied. Mr. Cameron headed for a door and bowed in her direction before exiting the office. Left alone, out of breath, sweating from her dress, and with her heart pounding from the information just told to her, Clare fell roughly onto the couch before falling to sleep.

Once she opened her eyes again she no longer felt her body constricted. She was no longer in the office either as she saw the very familiar walls of her room. Dressed now in sleep clothes and tucked under her soft covers, Clare turned her head and found a barely familiar face sitting in a chair beside her.

The person looked away from the book they were reading, letting Clare see their face and put a name to the face. "Gracie," Clare said. "What are you doing here?"

"Attending your party, as you asked," Gracie smiled. "Though the celebration has been cut short due to your spell. It is the next day."

"What happened?" Clare tried to sit up but felt her head spin at the attempt.

"Your friend Katie and I went looking for you and found you in your step-father's office, your skin very hot. We altered your mother who then promptly ended the party," Gracie explained. "Eli and Jake brought you here where you've slept for ages now. But your skin is no longer warm so I believe it was only a brief sickness."

Clare nodded and sighed. "I've been sick too long."

"But not rested enough it seems," Gracie told her. "The doctor has said that you must not wear corsets or dresses for at least a few weeks nor do any physical exertion. And you must eat."

"Yes," Clare couldn't help but roll her eyes. "I promise I will."

"Good," Gracie laughed. "Now if you excuse me, I must find Eli and ask if he may walk me home. My mother expected my arrival hours ago but I refused to leave without knowing that you are fine."

"I understand," Clare said, trying to hide her disappointment. "Can I ask you a question before you leave?"

"Of course." Gracie sat back in her chair. Clare couldn't help but notice that Gracie wasn't wearing a dress, much like the day in town, but rather, she was wearing a feminine version of a man's suit. The swell of her breasts were noticeable and the waist line of her dark pants were higher than a man's but it was still a man's outfit.

Clare thought to herself that she would have to ask her mother if she may wear an outfit like Gracie's if the doctor said that she should not wear corsets.

"Have you heard about…" Clare heard Mr. Cameron's words at the back of her mind, telling her not to tell women. But as strange as it was, Gracie didn't feel like the usual woman. She was still a woman in body but mentally was much like a man. Much like Eli, Clare thought.

"About what?" Gracie asked.

"The war," Clare whispered carefully, looking to the door quickly.

"Yes," Gracie nodded. "As has everyone. But the women pretend that nothing is happening while the men are whispering behind them. My mother has expressed her personal opinion of the volunteer regiment that has been proposed. My brother Drew has said that he will volunteer and my mother is against it."

"Your brother wishes to volunteer?"

"Yes, as do I, but seeing as I am a girl, I cannot," Gracie told Clare in obvious disappointment. "But Drew wants to volunteer. Eli as well."

Clare's jaw dropped and though not moving her body or head at all, she felt dizzier than ever. The thought of Eli off to the unknown, fighting a battle that he had no business in, the thought was just as bad as thinking of Jake going into the war as well.

"I must go now but I will return soon," Gracie assured her. "Follow the doctor's orders."

Clare was left in deafening silence after Gracie's departure. Her mind filled with thoughts of both Jake and Eli leaving and never returning. She couldn't bear the thought of either of them, both too young, risking their lives for a war that would start by narrow-minded people.

She couldn't allow it. She wouldn't allow it. And she'd make sure they knew how she felt about it. Now Clare had more reason to quickly get better. She had to stop them from making a big and possibly life threatening mistake before it's too late.


End file.
